My Bloodline Made Me Who I Am
by fendiaddickt
Summary: Despite his loathing of blood traitors and Mudbloods, dark and brooding Slytherin Blaise Zambini finds himself lusting over forbidden fruit in the form of the fiery Ginny Weasley.
1. Chapter 1

My Bloodline Made Me Who I Am

A line from the song "Long Line of Losers" by Montgomery Gentry.

In a few weeks, they would all be leaving for summer holiday; and final exams were approaching with alarming speed. He'd spend hours upon hours studying in the library with Pansy and Draco. Pansy's unusually shrill voice was starting to wear heavily on his nerves, and he'd finally had enough. Quickly making up an excuse, he pushed his chair back and stood up gracefully, blatantly ignoring Draco's pleading eyes, clearly begging for him to stay and not leave him alone with his precious Slytherin pet.

"_Sorry," _he mouthed silently, attempting to shrug his shoulders apologetically. He felt bad, but he wasn't concentrating anyway, and if he had to listen to Pansy's whining anymore he might just have to shove his wand through his ears. He made his way back to the common room, lowering himself into an emerald green armchair, draping his long, lean body over it with the careless elegance that only a well bred pureblood could achieve.

He could not get the image of her out of his mind. It was branded there, searing with the intensity of a thousand suns: Ginny Weasley. The sun shone off her long, beautiful ginger locks tumbled down her back like a waterfall; a striking contrast with her pale, milky white skin. The smooth curves of her body made his head pound, and the way her hips swayed when she walked made his breath catch in his throat.

How could he think about her like that, with unadulterated desire?! How could he ever want to touch a being so associated with mudbloods and blood traitors? In truth, she was a pureblood witch; neither of her lazy, good for nothing parents had a drop of tainted blood in them, despite the fact that they practically worshipped the Muggles. Be that as it may, she was still a blood traitor. She was not raised in the noble way of the purebloods. Her upbringing was poisoned by her Muggle-loving father, and even more disappointing was her mother, Molly. A part of the Prewett family, she'd grown up alongside her brothers Fabian and Gideon, the most talented and respected wizards of their generation, and she'd married that fool Arthur. Stupid woman.

Blaise had been with his fair share of girls, but all of them were part of a selective circle of Purebloods in London. He'd had a bit of an affair with raven haired Daphne Greengrass, a fellow Slytherin. Her family owned several prestigious London nightclubs. They would sneak up to the penthouses on weekends and holiday breaks. His mother would have loved for him to marry her. Their social rank would rise higher than ever, and they'd have more money than Merlin himself. She was too meek for his liking, though she had great tits. He continued to periodically hook up with her throughout the school year, but it was never anything serious. A couple summers ago, he'd had a fling with one of Draco's blonde-haired, blue eyed cousins, but that didn't go very far. Her name was Cecilia, and they'd gotten together in the midst of a Zambini/Malfoy joint family holiday to the beaches of southern France. He'd never forget their nights spent rolling around in the sand, and how she could twist her body in ways he never thought possible. When they parted ways that summer, he was sad to see her go, but he'd known it wasn't going last. Both Daphne and Cecilia had been good lovers, but he' d never felt anything beyond physical feelings for them. And certainly neither of them had ever been seared into his brain like the fiery female Weasley had.

He'd been strolling along the lake when he saw her. It was a bit chilly out, but a hint of summer teased him in the surrounding air. He liked to come out along the lake whenever he could to smoke and think, as there was a strict no smoking rule inside the castle. He sat down next to the only other peaceful willow tree along the lake, its willowing branches falling lightly beside him. Located in the outside corner of the grounds, it was usually very calm and quiet… except for today.

He'd just lit his cigarette and taken a long drag from it when the branches of the tree rustled slightly. He peered around, and to his surprise, saw a girl setting her books down lightly in the grass. The leaves were rather thick, and she had not the slightest inkling that she was not alone.

_Weasley, _he thought, exhaling irritably, the smoke carried quickly away by the late spring wind. The lake was HUGE. _Why must she come HERE to study of all places? _

Under the impression that she'd come out to study, he was shocked when she' d began to pull off her robes. It wasn't all that warm out yet; surely she couldn't be hot. He continued to watch wordlessly as she removed her shirt. She wore a deep emerald colored lace bra, her milky white chest barely contained. He felt himself flush.

She went on to remove her shoes and her Levi's, until she was standing before him in only her undergarments. Her flaming hair fell down her back like liquid, the moonlight shining off it brightly. It was a striking contrast to her creamy pale, freckled skin. The curves of her body were much more womanly than he'd ever guess hidden underneath her thick Gryffindor robes. He realized he was holding his breath, and he let it out silently.

His eyes opened wide as her panties fell to her ankles. Finally, her bra joined the pile of discarded clothing on the dewy grass. Pointing her wand at herself, she muttered something and then set it down on top of the pile. Ginny pushed aside the enveloping branches of the willow and entered the moonlit lake. The way she swiveled her hips when she walked was absolutely maddening. He wanted to ravish her right then and there.

Blaise could take no more; if he stayed there any longer he might have to join her. He scrambled up off the grass, stamping out his cigarette and practically running up to the castle. A cold shower was in order, a very cold shower indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

It had started to rain heavily halfway back to the castle. The showers outside the Quidditch pitch were completely empty after five, so he practically ran into the small stone building. He stripped off his damp clothing and stepped into the cold stream. Facing the wall and shivering, he tried to replace thoughts of Ginny with those of old, lumpy, unattractive old witches, but not even Bathilda Bagshot could banish her image from his mind.

_I've got to stop this! _He chided himself. He'd never been so strikingly affected by such a lowly, unworthy source. _Blaise Zambini, taking a cold shower outside the Quidditch pitch because he can't seem to get rid of a hard-on induced by a redheaded blood traitor! _He snorted. _Draco would think he was a joke! And his father, would surely turn over in his grave! I've got to get myself together! I will never think of Ginny Weasley ever again…_

Suddenly, he felt a pair of smooth, silky hands slide downward from the sides of his stomach. He was hard as a rock within an instant. Spinning around, he came face to face with a very wet, very naked Daphne Greengrass.

"Hey baby," she whispered, her voice gravelly, sliding her palms upward across his perfectly chiseled pectorals and clasping them behind his neck. "You know, you could have just called me, I'm a whole hell of a lot better than a cold shower."

"D-Daph, what are you doing in the men's showers?" Blaise stuttered, trying to mask his disappointment. Disappointment should be the last thing he felt, holed up inside empty showers with a naked pureblood sex goddess. He wasn't disappointed by the fact that he was being massaged by a naked woman in the shower, he was disappointed that it wasn't the woman of his choosing.

"I was out on the pitch practicing, and I saw you walk in all hot and bothered." She smiled, flashing perfectly straight, pearly white teeth. "Thought you might want some company." She rubbed her bare flesh against his.

"Ah, that…see, usually I would, but I should really be heading back up to the castle, I've been gone quite awhile, and I was supposed to keep studying with Draco and Pansy," he blurted, shocked at his own words. Did he just decline to have sex? Impossible.

"Pansy's a bitch, and Draco can wait," Daphne drawled seductively, lightly pushing him against the wall. "Besides, look at that thing," she said innocently, and he followed her gaze downward to his crotch. "Can't leave that unattended, can we?"

Blaise let his deep brown eyes take in her lean, taut body. She still had great tits.

"Daph, what did I ever do without you?" he asked, pulling her close. Crashing his lips into hers and surrendering to her sweet seduction, he attempted to remind himself how good she was, and how perfect they were; two purebloods, making insanely proper, fantastic love to each other.

He kissed her neck, and trailed down her chest and stomach, feeling her squirm in unadulterated joy. He'd never fucked someone so passionately in his entire life. Every time his eyes closed, Daphne's silky black hair turned a fiery red, and her tan, flawless skin became pale and freckled. When he finished, Daphne screamed and writhed. Submerged so deep in pleasure, she didn't even hear the pleading moan that escaped from the lips of her Slytherin lover.

"Ginny, please…."


	3. Chapter 3

For the next few days, Blaise's mind was everywhere but where it needed to be-studying for exams. He knew his Potions final was going to be terribly difficult. At times, he wished feverishly that he was Draco Malfoy. Draco had always been awful at Potions, but Snape always gave him top marks anyway, despite the fact that he couldn't even properly brew an effective Pepper-Up Potion.

He knew he needed to forget about Ginny Weasley; he needed to quit her cold turkey. He had never met a girl that he couldn't erase from his memory with a good hookup or two, but she was different. Ginny had left an image so vivid in his mind that somehow, unfailingly, everything led back to that image of her undressing next to the lake.

_I'd better go over the Drought of Living Death again, _he thought, sighing heavily and leaning back in the library armchair, which had been his second home for the past couple weeks.

Flipping lethargically through his Potions book, the opening page of the Love Potions chapter fell open in front of him. The page that he had so strategically paused at was adorned with a picture of a beautiful red-headed woman smirking seductively up at him, her brown eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Goddamnit!" he hissed angrily, slamming his book shut. _I can't take this anymore. Maybe I'll go find Daph. She's pretty good at taking my mind off things. _Throwing his unused ink and parchment into his bag, he whirled around, pummeling the girl walking past him in the stomach with his bag.

"Sorry," he said impatiently, not even looking at the girl. He hadn't even hit her that hard.

"You're lucky my ink bottle didn't smash. You'd be buying me a new bag, Mr. Moody," came the scathing reply.

His temper flaring, he spun around to see who could be so insolent as to speak to him that way.

"How dare you speak to me like that!? Do you know who I-" He cut off when he recognized the long, red hair of the girl who had haunted his dreams all week. She was wearing an emerald green V-neck shirt that dipped dangerously to reveal her chest, and it was all he could do to keep his eyes firmly locked on her face. _Come on Blaise, you already know what they look like…_

"I do actually know who you are Blaise Zabini. Just because you're a Slytherin and you have Galleons coming out of your arse doesn't mean you're any better than the rest of us," she hissed, her eyebrows forming a delightful crease on her forehead. It was almost cute.

He almost smiled, in spite of himself. "I'm surprised you came up with a clever comeback like that, being a blood traitor and all," he said with a smirk.

He could practically see the fire in her bright brown eyes. "I'm shocked you even have room for a brain in that big head of yours."

"Speaking of big heads-"

"You're disgusting," she spat, her pretty features contorting into a look of revulsion.

"Don't jump to conclusions, Weasley. I would never touch a filthy traitor like you," Blaise snapped, the lie tasting bitter as it passed through his lips.

"I would rather gauge out my own eyeballs before I come anywhere near you, so I don't think we'll have a problem," she retorted, her eyes narrowing into slits. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do with my time."

With that, she spun on her heel and stormed away, her hips swiveling the way they did the night at the lake. He watched her until she disappeared among the shelves. He felt a pang somewhere in his lower navel when he remembered what she had said.

_"I would rather gauge out my own eyeballs before I come anywhere near you!"_

___He caught his reflection staring back at him in the glass cabinet housing the library's most important documents. His skin was the color of coffee, and his vivid green eyes gave him a somewhat exotic look. He had high cheekbones, a gently curving jaw line and teeth that practically sparkled when he smiled. His body was lean and muscular from years of working out and playing Quidditch with Draco. _

_Surely she can't have meant that,_ he thought anxiously. _I am practically the best looking guy in Slytherin. Much better than Draco_ he added as an afterthought. _She'd be absolutely absurd to not want me._

He left the library smirking, pleased with his own logic. Despite his outward appearance, the butterflies of doubt still lingered underneath his perfectly chiseled set of abdominals.


	4. Chapter 4

Ginny huffed away, still fuming. _I have never met a more conceited, ignorant scum of a wizard in my entire life,_ she thought._ Well, other than Draco Malfoy. He just thinks everyone is going to worship the ground he walks on because of his unnatural good-looks and the overflowing vault he has at Gringotts! Good looking? What am I saying? He's weird looking. Those eyes are kind of creepy. I would love to punch him right in the-_

She stopped abruptly when she saw who was occupying her usual study table in the back corner of the library. It was Lavender Brown, the probably the biggest slut in Hogwarts, hooking up with a boy whose back was to Ginny. She pitied whoever it was; he was probably catching at least six diseases by just touching her.

"Gee Lavender, if I wanted to watch soft-core porn, I would just turn on Witches Gone Wild."

Ungluing her face, Lavender turned around, opening pink glossy lips to retort. When she realized it was Ginny, her ridiculously tanned face turned stark white. "G-Ginny," she stuttered, "Oh shit, I thought-"

But Ginny didn't hear another word. She was too busy staring at the boy who had been coercing with Lavender, his arms wrapped around her body and his tongue flopping around in her disgusting mouth. She was surprised that she hadn't recognized the dark hair and the Quidditch robes emblazoned with the Gryffindor seal before. It was none other than Dean Thomas, her boyfriend. The look on his face was a mixture of shock, regret, and fear.

"Gin, it isn't what it looks like!" he said weakly, rising from the table and coming towards her, arms outstretched in some sort of peace offering. "We were just studying-"

"Studying what, Dean?" she said in a dangerously low, controlled tone. "Lavender's anatomy?"

"Baby, it's not what you think," he pleaded, attempting to put his arms around her, but she shoved him roughly. "I don't even like Lavender-"

Lavender let out a squeak of disapproval. "Shut your whore mouth, Lavender," Ginny hissed before she could speak.

"Don't touch me, Dean Thomas. I never want to see you again. Don't try to contact me, EVER," she growled, trying to keep her voice down. She didn't want to have to deal with Madam Pince, too.

"Ginny, don't do this-"

"I told you we should have just gone to the Astronomy Tower like last time," Lavender whined.

At her words, blood rushed to Ginny's face, turning it nearly the same color as her flaming hair. He had been doing this behind her back for awhile now. He was cheating on her, and she had trusted him. Tears of humiliation welled up in her eyes, and she fought valiantly to keep them at bay.

"You've done this before?" she asked, shaking.

"No! Of course not! Lavender's lying, we've hardly even talked before today," he soothed, taking a chance and moving towards Ginny again, but she pushed him away.

"Ha!" Lavender shrieked. "Lie to her Dean, whatever you have to do, but we both know that you'll be back in my four-poster tomorrow night, like usual," she spat with malice.

Ginny turned to Dean and slapped him as hard as she could muster. He reeled back, swearing and clutching his face. She then faced Lavender. She'd never wanted to hit the blonde girl so much in her entire life.

"Lavender, I would hit you too if I thought it was worth it," she said, clenching her fists, "but a whore like you isn't worth my time. You two enjoy your lives together."

She'd barely made it two steps before she heard Lavender's whiny voice once again, low but audible. _"Blood traitor skank."_

Before she could stop herself, she had launched herself at Lavender, and they were both flying across the table.


	5. Chapter 5

The last of the day's sunlight streamed through the narrow windows of Minerva McGonagall's office, casting long, low shadows across the room. McGonagall paced slowly across the room, her heels clicking angrily on the worn wooden floor. Her piercing eyes were narrowed with irritation.

"Now, which one of you cares to explain to me WHY you thought it was a good idea to conduct a wrestling match in the middle of a LIBRARY?" she asked, glaring angrily at the three students seated in front of her. "Does it please you to tarnish the Gryffindor name? WELL?!"

"No ma'am," Dean replied fidgeting in his seat. "It was just an accident anyway, I-"

"Accidentally cheated on your girlfriend, huh?" Ginny spat, her tone heavy with sarcasm. "I didn't know it was so hard to keep in your pants-"

"Miss Weasley, that is quite enough!" McGonagall screeched, cutting Ginny off before she could finish. "I have absolutely no desire to hear about your love life! All I want to know is why Madam Pince had to pull- excuse me- DRAG you off Lavender Brown in the middle of the Magical Creatures section!"

"Professor, she was saying terrible things to me!" Lavender wailed, burying her head in her hands. "She's awful Professor, and then she hit me-"

"You don't even know what pain feels like, bitch!" Ginny snarled, jumping to her feet so fast her chair toppled over.

"ENOUGH MISS WEASLEY! YOU WILL SPEND THE REST OF THE WEEK IN DETENTION!" McGonagall screeched, forcing Ginny back down with a flick of her wand. "And so will you two," she said, gesturing at Dean and Lavender. Lavender's triumphant smile vanished. "And 100 points from Gryffindor."

"Professor, you can't do that!" Dean begged. "We're in the lead now, but Slytherin's not far behind, and if we lose the match this weekend they could get ahead!"

"Well, Mr. Thomas, perhaps you should have thought about that before coercing with two females at once," she snapped. "All three of you will report to detention, starting tonight. I believe Professor Snape will be conducting tonight's festivities. And if I catch any of you fighting again, it will be a lot more than 100 points," she sniffed. "Now, get out of my office."

Draco slouched into the Slytherin dormitory later that afternoon, pulling his t-shirt off to reveal a sculpted white chest. He threw himself on the four poster directly across from Blaise's with a sigh.

"You know, mate, I'm not sure the whole whiny girl persona fits you quite right," Blaise teased. "Or on second thought, maybe-"

"Shut up!" Draco growled, tossing a pillow at him. "Quidditch was not good to me today."

"The Gryffindor/Slytherin scrimmage didn't go according to plan?" Blaise asked, absentmindedly flipping through his Potions book.

"Fucking Potter caught the snitch five minutes in. I knew it was over the second I saw his blood traitor head streaking through the damned sky," Draco growled. "I swear to Merlin he cheats."

"Well, at least you have the rest of tonight to relax with Snape. You know, detention supervison?" he continued, seeing the blank look on Draco's face. And then it dawned on him.

"FUCK! I completely forgot! Pansy's coming over tonight!"

"That sucks, mate. I guess Pansy'll have to come over and suck your dick-I mean study- some other time," Blaise replied nonchalantly. He knew what was coming.

"Cover for me?" Draco pleaded, staying true to character. "Just this once?"

Blaise avoided eye contact. "I have studying to do. And I was hoping to go for a run later-"

"Com'on! I let you shag my cousin! You owe me!"

"You did not LET me shag your cousin! She fucked me of her own accord!" Blaise shot back. "And as for the part about me being in your debt, I think the fact that I haven't strangled Pansy yet is payment enough!"

"Please?" Draco asked desperately, a final surge in a losing battle. "I'll pay you! 10 galleons. And I'll cover for your next TWO detentions!"

Blaise looked at his friend with exasperation. He really was looking forward to having tonight to accomplish some things, go for a run around the lake, and maybe go to bed early. His final decision was made, however, by the sound of Pansy's whiny, screeching voice traveling up the staircase and colliding forcefully and unpleasantly with his eardrums.

"DRAKIE! I BROUGHT WHIPPED CREAM TONIGHT, BABY!"

"Make that 20 galleons, asshole!" Blaise hissed at Draco, heading for the door. "And stay the hell away from my bed!"


	6. Chapter 6

"So, you punched Lavender in the face then?" Harry asked amusedly, sitting down next to Ginny on the worn patchwork couch in the Gryffindor common room.

"I heard she took a couple good swings at Dean as well," Ron added, plopping down on the other side of his sister. "The git. Excellent work, Gin, that's the Weasley way."

"I'm sure she's just thrilled that 'the Weasley way' got her a week's worth of detention," Hermione interjected sarcastically, though her tone was light. "Especially since it's Snape's week to supervise," she said, sitting down in an armchair, shooting Ginny a sympathetic grin.

"Wouldn't you have done the same if you saw your boyfriend snogging another girl?" Ginny snapped, irritation and anger ringing in her voice. "Lavender Brown is the most despicable, conniving-"

"Of course we would've!" Harry said exasperatedly.

"We'd have probably done a lot more damage though," said Ron matter-a factly, chomping loudly on an apple. "I still would too. Dean Thomas-"

"-got lucky he only had to deal with you in that library," Harry finished. "Next time we see him, he's going to wish he never even heard the name Lavender Brown."

"That's mature. Maybe the two of you can join Ginny in detention. I'm sure Snape would have a field day," said Hermione, not looking up from the _Daily Prophet._

"So we should just let Dean get away with what he did to Ginny?" Harry asked, a hint of indignation in his voice. "He cheated on her, Hermione, I would NEVER cheat on Gin-er well, it's a terrible thing to do," he finished lamely, his cheeks tinged pink.

Ginny grinned to herself in spite of the situation. Harry had liked her for awhile now, but he never made any advances other than an awkward slip up here and there, such as now. She was kind of glad he hadn't though. She didn't want to make things awkward between anyone, and she wasn't quite sure exactly how she felt about him yet either.

"Let's HOPE you never cheat on my sister," Ron said jokingly, but Ginny could sense a slight threat in the way he said it. "I would kill-"

"Don't you have Quidditch practice at 5?" Hermione cut in quickly, checking her watch. "It's 4:50."

Harry and Ron jumped up from the couch simultaneously, elbowing and kneeing Ginny in the process.

"Shit, you're right. I haven't even relaced my trainers yet-"

"Doesn't matter mate, I don't think we're running today. I wonder if Dean'll be there, we can beat him with our brooms and just make it look like it was a rough practice-"

The portrait of the Fat Lady swung shut and their voices echoed in the stone hallway.

"I better go too Hermione," Ginny said, sighing heavily. "I have to study for Transfiguration before detention."

Hermione smiled sympathetically, getting up and wrapping her arms around her friend. "Hey, Gin, don't worry. It'll all work out in the end."

"I know, but right now I just feel horrible," Ginny said, her voice cracking. "It's not like Dean and I were going to get married or anything, it's just-"

"Ginny," Hermione said, pulling back a little. "You're allowed to feel horrible! Even if you weren't planning on spending the rest of your life with him, being lied to and deceived is still unacceptable. Anyone in your situation would feel the same. And just in case Ron and Harry didn't get the point across, Dean doesn't deserve someone like you anyway."

"Lavender's probably just what he deserves," Ginny said, cracking a small smile. "Thanks Mi."

"No problem," Hermione said with a laugh. "You better go study. My regards to Snape."

"He'll be thrilled, I'm sure," Ginny said, rolling her eyes as she left the portrait hole.

Blaise made his way down to the dungeons as if he was on his way to his own execution. The torches cast flickering shadows across the deep gray stones, mirroring his mood. Somehow, he didn't feel that spending his night with Snape and a couple Gryffindors who probably received detention for chewing gum was worth 20 galleons. _Fucking hell, _he scowled, pushing open the heavy wooden doors leading into Professor Snape's potions classroom.

"Good evening Mr. Mal-er, Zabini," Snape drawled, glancing at him with an air of suspiciousness. "I was expecting Mr. Malfoy tonight."

"He had a lot of homework to do," Blaise returned, the lies coming easily. They usually did, Blaise was particularly adept at lying. "I told him we could switch weeks."

"Fine, then," Snape snapped without bothering to spare a look in Blaise's direction. "Sit down then, they should be here soon. Tonight they're going to be polishing trophies in the trophy room."

"Who is it this time, sir? Not Seamus Finnegan again, that guy doesn't even deserve to have control of a voicebox," Blaise remarked, leaning his wooden chair on its two back legs and interlocking his hands behind his head. "Bloody idiot, that one is."

"I am sorry to say that we do not have the enjoyment of Mr. Finnegan's company this evening," Snape drawled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "The owl I received just a few moments ago informs me that we will be hosting Mr. Dean Thomas, Ms. Lavender Brown, and the youngest Weasley, whatever her name is."

Blaise almost toppled over backwards in his chair. "Ginny Weasley?"

"That is indeed what I said. And I hope you can manage to locate a sense of balance sometime this evening," Snape said, looking at Blaise curiously.

Blaise's heart was pounding so loudly in his ears that he didn't even hear the professor's jab. Ginny was going to be spending the next four hours waxing trophies. Under HIS direction.

"What did she do, sir?" he blurted out. Whenever Ginny Weasley was mentioned, he seemed to lose the ability to control himself.

"The three of them got into a fight in the library earlier today," Snape replied, slowly turning to face his young assistant. Humor danced across his eyes. "Why are you suddenly so interested?"

"I-er, I was just trying to get an idea of what we're dealing with here, sir."

"This isn't a crime scene, Mr. Zabini."

Blaise could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He prided himself in his ability to mask his emotions; to remain calm, cool, and collected in every situation. And now, here he was, blushing at the mere thought of a ginger mudblood! _I really need to get my shit together. _Setting his jaw, he turned to see Dean Thomas walk through the door to the Potions room.

"Sit down Mr. Thomas," Snape drawled, lazily pointing at a chair. "Let us hope that your girlfriend-er, _girlfriends_ arrive shortly."

Glowering, Dean slouched over to the nearest empty wooden desk and sat down. Blaise gladly returned the angry gaze. He'd never liked the Gryffindor chaser. He'd hooked up with a couple of naïve, first year Slytherins at the beginning of term, a series of events that had greatly irked Blaise, only because he hadn't gotten to them first.

"Professor, you better keep her away from me, I don't want that bitch attacking me again!" Lavender screeched as she entered the room, launching herself into a desk and sliding it closer to Dean, the legs scraping unpleasantly on the stone. Ginny walked in behind her, her face stony and her brown eyes flashing. She slid into the desk nearest to the door and crossed her arms.

"Miss Brown, I would prefer not to hear your voice again for the rest of the evening," Snape said, emerging from the Potions stockroom. With a flick of his wand, he sent Lavender and her desk reeling away from Dean. "Now, the three of you will be polishing trophies in the trophy room tonight, under the supervision of Mr. Zabini here."

"I just got my nails done and-"

"Perhaps you should have considered that little fact before you decided to compete in a wrestling match in the library, Ms. Brown," Snape said nastily, throwing them each a dirty rag. "Now, all three of you. Go."

With a sigh, Lavender flounced out of the room, followed by Dean and Ginny.

"Mr. Zabini, I'll be in periodically to check in as soon as I finish testing these potions," Snape told him. "And Blaise?"

"Sir?" Blaise replied, craning his neck out the door.

"Be careful . You are playing with fire…both literally and metaphorically."

Startled, Blaise looked up, but Snape had already turned his back. He must either be very, very obvious…or one of those potions allowed him to read minds. It wouldn't come as a surprise at all that Snape had mind reading abilities. At this thought, Blaise turned and had to stop himself from practically sprinting out of the room. His blood turned cold at the thought of Snape having access to his pathetic, dirty mind.


	7. Chapter 7

"Blaise," Lavender crooned, sidling up to him and fluttering her eyelashes as they entered the trophy room. "How about I just mop the floors? My nails won't get dirty. I'll be happy. You'll be happy. We'll all be happy!"

"Lavender, I don't give a shit about your nails…or your happiness. So do us all a favor and shut the hell up," Blaise replied scathingly, tossing her a rag and a tin of wax. "Wax on, wax off."

"You know the _Karate Kid_?"

Blaise turned to face Ginny. She was staring at him with an incredulous look on her face. "Don't be stupid, Weasley," he said nonchalantly. "I had the misfortune of reading about it in a book somewhere. I would never waste my precious time watching Muggle films."

"Of course you wouldn't," Ginny said sweetly, taking the wax from him. "You were probably far too busy reading _fine_ wizarding literature and preparing to become the arrogant asshole that you are today."

Blaise smirked at the insult. "Mm, I love my women feisty-"

"It's a bit hard to concentrate with you hitting on my Ginny!" Dean snapped at Blaise, glaring at him from over the top of the trophy he was polishing.

Ginny laughed, high and loud, but it didn't quite reach her lovely brown eyes.

"Dean, I thought we went over this. Never refer to me as yours EVER AGAIN," Ginny said evenly. She was clenching her fists so tightly that her nails were practically cutting her palms. "I would rather be his than yours!" she hissed, gesturing at Blaise. "…and that's saying something," she finished quickly. _What am I saying? I must be daft!_

She quickly looked over at Blaise, who failed to hide the look of shock on his face. For a moment, their eyes met and he caught a glimpse of something he couldn't quite describe.

"Don't look too deeply into it, Zabini," Ginny said, cutting in before he could take off running with that statement. "I just said that to prove a point, you still haven't got a chance."

"Whatever, Weasley," he retorted, struggling to keep hold of his dignity. "I could never date someone like you anyway."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Ginny shot back.

Blaise did not like where this conversation was headed. "Anyways," he said, trying to keep his tone indifferent, "What's up with this little triangle?" He gestured at Dean and Lavender.

"I'd rather not talk about it," Ginny snapped, polishing her trophy in noticeably more vigorous circles.

"Ginny's sulking because Dean's decided he'd rather have me," Lavender interjected, a cold, taunting smile playing on her lips.

Blaise watched as Ginny's entire body tensed. It seemed to hum with energy, but the next second he blinked and she had relaxed once more.

"Well Dean," Ginny said cynically, choosing to ignore Lavender. "Good choice. You really picked a winner, if you know what I mean."

"Gin-"

But Lavender cut Dean off before he could finish. "Don't be jealous because I'm better looking than you are, Ginny Weasley!" she snapped.

Blaise had to hold in a chuckle at this point. In what figment of her imagination did Lavender get off saying that she was better looking than Ginny Weasley? Sure, she had a decent arse, but her makeup was caked on so thick that most people probably had no idea what her face actually looked like. She also had a brain the size of a Knut and a personality to match. _Ginny eclipses her in every aspect of the term'beauty!' _Blaise mused, silently observing the verbal spar between the three Gryffindors.

"…and said you were bad anyways!" Lavender finished, her voice ringing with the confidence and triumph of a child who had just managed to choose her first wand.

"Oh, is that so Dean?" Ginny asked him sweetly.

"No, Gin, of course you weren't-"

"That's not what you said on Christmas, Dean!" Lavender interjected angrily, knowing that her last bit of ammunition would never hit home if Dean lied about it.

"I thought you were skiing with your parents on over Christmas weekend," Ginny said, whipping around to face Dean. "You couldn't come over for dinner on Christmas because you were in the Alps!"

"That's what he told you!" Lavender said triumphantly. "My family was gone, so I told him to come over and we could talk underneath the mistletoe-"

"Is she telling the truth, Dean?" Ginny asked him flatly. Her body was quivering with anticipation. _Sweet Merlin, I hope she's lying, _Blaise thought, sneaking a look at Ginny's face. It looked like it was chiseled out of marble, dark and impassive. He had a horrible feeling that what Dean was about to say would shatter the lovely statue that was currently Ginny Weasley.

"Baby, listen to me. It was a mistake-"

But the rest of his words were cut off by the sharp, crisp sound of Ginny's palm forcefully making contact with Dean's cheek. Dean reeled, but Ginny was already rounding on Lavender, her beautiful body arched like a deadly predator.

Blaise lunged at Ginny and caught her around the waist before she could dismember Lavender.

"Let go of me," Ginny spat, her eyes blazing. She tried to writhe out of his grasp. "I'm going to kill that bitch-"

With that, he strode away, grasping Ginny and her flailing limbs. Still fighting his grip, Blaise pulled Ginny out into the hall and slammed the door shut behind him.

"Ginny, calm down-"

"Don't you DARE tell me to _calm down_! I have every right! She deserves it, the filthy, conniving slut!" Ginny screeched, trying to shove Blaise away. "And Dean-"

All the sudden, she stopped fighting. Blaise had his arms still wrapped tightly around her, and was startled when he met no resistance. He stepped back a bit and saw her face. It was no longer the mask of anger it had been, but stark white. The look of pain on her face nearly made him shiver.

"What's wrong?" he asked, genuinely concerned. "Ginny?"

"Dean," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "I can't believe he…he was never…I was-"

She started to cry then; deep, hacking sobs that traveled to her very core. Her entire body shook with grief. He was rather alarmed by this sudden breakdown. Ginny Weasley was the kind of person wouldn't be caught dead crying in public, especially not crying on the shoulder of someone like him. Someone she hated. She had too much pride. He felt a sudden rush of anger thinking about Dean Thomas and how he'd taken every ounce of Ginny Weasley's trust, a trust that was clearly quite hard to come by, and thrown it to the wind. How had an idiot like him had this kind of effect on a strong, seemingly impenetrable girl like Ginny Weasley?

_Oh Merlin, please stop crying,_ Blaise thought desperately, unsure of his next move. He was never very good with any sort of display of feelings (unless those feelings ended in orgasm), so he did the only thing that seemed logical: he wrapped his arms around her awkwardly. He was shocked at how her body could be both solid and fragile at the same time. He held her there for quite some time, rubbing her back in small circles while she soaked his shirt with salty tears, not knowing quite what to do.

As she was surfacing from her pool of self pity and grief, Ginny became curiously aware of how perfectly her head fit into the niche of Blaise Zabini's shoulder. He had her pulled up against his chest, and he was lightly tracing circles on her back. He wasn't filling the air with useless phrases like "Everything's going to be okay," that meant nothing. The simple act of rubbing her back was much more comforting than anything she'd ever felt.

"I'm sorry," she said, sniffing and pulling back a bit. "Your shirt's soaked."

"Yeah, well, surprisingly, I'm not mad," Blaise said, looking down at the wet spot on his shoulder. "I'm glad you stopped when you did though. My entire shirt may have been damp if you'd carried on that rubbish much longer."

Ginny punched him lightly on the arm, letting out a watery laugh. "You probably would have contracted pneumonia on your way back to the dungeons."

"Yeah, well, maybe that would get me out of a few of these bloody exams…on second thought, feel free to carry on then," he said teasingly, spreading his arms with a grin.

Ginny smiled, but there was still the slightest hint of embarrassment in her tone, though she tried to conceal it. "Sorry to say, but I think I've recovered from my highly embarrassing little…er, episode."

"Ah well, you can just owe me then. I did stand there for hours while you cried your heart out all over my shirt. I hope it doesn't leave a stain."

"That's bullshit! It was maybe 10 minutes," Ginny retorted, rolling her eyes. "I'll pay for your dry cleaning…_sir."_

"Not hardly, Miss Weasley. My dry cleaning probably costs more than your entire house," Blaise said with a (fairly) good-hearted smirk. _Am I flirting with her? What the fuck am I doing? _"Anyways, you should probably go. I'll just tell Snape I handed your crazy arse off to McGonagall or something," he said quickly. "I have business to attend to."

"Fine with me," Ginny said, turning and walking down the corridor. "And Blaise?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Thanks," she said, smirking at him. "That was really kind of you… but don't let that get to your head. You're still an arrogant prat."

"And you're still ginger blood traitor," he called, keeping his stride. But he couldn't help, once again, to smile despite the insult. And even though they were walking back to back in opposite directions, he swore he could feel her smiling too.


End file.
